


The Mirror Between Us

by RunWithWolves



Series: 10MoreDaysofCreampuff [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 10moredaysofcreampuff, F/F, Soulmate AU, mirror story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those lucky enough to have a soulmate, a mirror will bridge time and distance to let them communicate once a year on their birthday. Carmilla is convinced that her mirror has made a mistake. Not only is this Laura girl an infuriating pest but she lives in a world hundreds of years from Carmilla's own. </p><p>What's the point of a soulmate that you'll never see?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ages 5- 14

**Author's Note:**

> Because I've never seen a mirror soulmate au and I wanted one.

Mircalla kept one hand on her sweeping skirts as the other clenched tightly to Mama’s bigger hand. The servants all smiled at her as they passed and today, Mircalla returned her toothy grin. She knew Mama saw her but she let it pass. 

Today Mircalla turned five and she’d get to look in the mirror. 

Mama told her not to be disappointed if it was blank. Lots of people had blank mirrors. Soulmates were rare. Papa said it was okay if there was nobody on the other side. She could still be very happy without someone being her soulmate.

When Mircalla had asked if they were soulmates, her parents hadn’t answered. 

Mama gave her a kiss on the cheek and a soft stroke to her head. Mircalla clenched tighter to her hand, suddenly scared to go into the library. Slowly, Mama extracted her hand and gave Mircalla a small push into the room, gently shutting the door was a reassuring smile. 

The walk across the library seemed endless. All the books she loved, staring down as the five year old moved past the well worn armchair that she loved to curl up in with her Papa. 

To stop in front of the large covered mirror. 

Mircalla took a moment to stare at the ornate cloth covering the mirror, the Karnstein crest and a pattern of yellow roses crisscrossing the dark red fabric. It was kind of dusty. Half heartedly cleaned by servants who were too afraid to touch the mirror. They all would have had to go to the nearest Lord’s castle when they turned five to look in the mirror. If they had a soulmate and the Lord was kind, then perhaps they’d be allowed to visit on occasion. 

Mama and Papa may have kept the mirror covered but they couldn’t put it away. The Karnstein family was one of the few with a personal mirror. It had to be shown off. She’d heard whispers that her great great grandfather had commissioned it when he found out he had a soulmate. 

He’d wanted to be able to see her whenever he could. 

Mircalla reached out, her tiny hands clasping at the heavy fabric. With a deep breath, she gave a sharp tug and the fabric slowly came sliding off the top of the mirror, pooling at Mircalla’s feet. 

Only her reflection stared back. 

Her heart dropped slightly. The dreams and fairytales of a child cut to the side. 

The only reflection a tiny five year old girl with thick dark curls and too pale skin. Until it wasn’t. Suddenly, beside her reflection was a tiny girl. Even tinier than her with long brown hair that was almost gold and eyes too big for her head and a big smile that was suddenly growing on her face. 

When the grin reached it’s peak, the girl spoke, “I’m Laura!”

Mircalla said the first thing that came to her, “you’re a girl!” She gasped, “and you’re dressed like a boy.”

Everything was strange about the image in front of her. The girl, Laura, was clearly in fact a girl. This on it’s own was cause enough for concern. No-one had mentioned the possibility that her soulmate could be a girl before. 

And the girl was so showing so much leg, apparently in undergarments, made of a strange fabric. Mircalla snapped her gaze away. And her hair was free. And her shirt was an odd mixture of fabric and designs and swirling colours that didn’t seem to be mixed. 

“Yeah, I’m a girl,” Laura said, crossing her arms, “so are you.”

A calm feel over Mircalla the longer she looked at Laura, “We can’t both be girls.” She said reasonably.

Laura frowned, her nose scrunching, “We can’t? Are you sure? Cause they said in school that the mirror is never wrong and then my friend Danny asked how the mirror can’t be wrong and the teacher didn’t know because they said no-one knows which is kinda dumb. And then Danny asked about what happens if you’d already met your soulmate and the teacher said that they’d still be in the mirror cause they have a reflection.”

Mircalla stared at her, marveling at the flow of words and trying to wrap her head around strange terms like school and dumb. Finally she squinted, “I don’t know anyone who has a girl for a soulmate.”

Laura thought about it for a moment, “I know!” Laura’s eyes lit up and she bounced in place, “I’ll ask my mommy. She knows everything.”

Suddenly Laura was gone, blinking away from the mirror as though she’d never been there. Mircalla folded her hands in front of her, wondering how long she had to wait before she could leave. Clearly, there was something very wrong here. 

Laura was back before she could seriously contemplate calling her Papa. 

“She said that girls can have girls for soulmates!” The grin Laura gave her was toothy, a small space between the front two teeth, “so the mirror isn’t wrong, just like I said.”

“Maybe she’s wrong,” Mircalla said. 

Laura stomped her foot, the image in the mirror glowering at her, “No, she’s not! My mom is never wrong. She’s amazing.”

Mircalla couldn’t quite believe that the mirror was telling her that this girl was supposed to be her soulmate, “No-one is always right,” she said, “that’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” Laura yelled, “take that back.”

Mircalla crossed her arms and gave her best ‘the servant is being bad’ look, “No. My Papa says that everyone, even the king, does wrong things sometimes.”

“Well, maybe your Papa isn’t right,” Laura said. 

“Well, maybe your Mom isn't right,” Mircalla said. 

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be your soulmate anyway!” Laura shouted. 

Mircalla flinched, then snarled, “I don’t want to be your soulmate either.” 

Laura plopped to the floor and crossed her arms, a pout crossing her face, “Great.”

“Fine.”

The girls glared at each other cross the mirror. Laura sitting cross legged on the ground and looking up, Mircalla glaring down. Even she ignored the strange clothes, Mircalla could admit that there was something, intriguing, about the girl. The way she was so convinced of her statement. How she didn’t seem to stop moving, even when sitting, Laura’s leg bounced up and down. How she actually argued with Mircalla. 

A peasant yelling at a Countess. Really. 

Intriguing.

“What’s your name?” Laura’s arms were still crossed as she pouted on the floor but her face had softened in the intervening moments. 

Mircalla ignored her. 

“Where do you live?” Laura tried again. 

Mircalla turned away from the mirror, “Somewhere you’d never be rich enough to find.” This was ridiculous, she was leaving. She was finding her Papa and telling him that the mirror was broken so that he could get it fixed and she could find her real soulmate. 

“Why are you dressed like a Princess?” Laura’s voice came again. 

Mircalla turned slightly, her gaze following Laura’s bare legs. Not even the servants were so daring when they snuck for swims in the pond, they at least kept their ankles fully covered. But this girl, was flaunting the entirety of her leg from ankle to mid thigh. Mircalla had never seen a leg that was not her own. She was surprised to find that Laura’s was thicker than her own. Stockier, with more muscle. 

Then she remembered herself and looked away, turning back towards the door.

“Why are you in your underwear? Mircalla snapped. Then she stepped away from the mirror, leaving Laura’s reflection sitting alone in it’s depths. It wouldn’t disappear until she managed to leave the room. 

She’d just passed her Papa’s chair when she heard the sniffle from behind her. She took another step but froze when a tiny hiccup burst from the mirror. Spinning slowly, Mircalla saw the image of Laura looking up at something that Mircalla couldn’t see. Likely another person who didn’t show in the mirror’s magic. 

As she watched Laura hiccuped again, taking big gulps of air as her hands held her sides, “She was mean, Mom. Why was she mean?”

And something tugged on Mircalla’s chest. Before she could make a conscious decision, her feet had already taken her back to the mirror. Laura stared at her, wide-eyes tinged in red, as Mircalla delicately settled her long skirts to sit properly on the floor. 

Ankles fully covered. 

“I’m not a princess,” she said at last, not looking at Laura, “I’m a Countess. The Right Honourable and Most Excellentest of all Ladies, Countess Mircalla Von Karnstein of Celje. Daughter of Marquess Von Karnstein in the lands of Styria who presides over March Karnstein on the boarder of our great empire from our home at Castle Karnstein.”

“You live in a castle!” The excited in the words forced her to look up. Laura was still wide-eyed but her expression had brightened, “I didn’t know people still lived in castles! Like a fairy tale.”

Mircalla wondered where Laura could possibly live that didn’t have castles, “And, you?”

Laura practically beamed at her, “I live in Canada. Right by Toronto but not in Toronto because Daddy wanted to have a yard because the streets are dangerous. Our house is by a lake and I go swimming sometimes.” 

Canada? Mircalla was not familiar with that region of the empire. She would need to request a larger map from her father. 

Then Laura looked up at the person Mircalla couldn’t see, “yeah Mommy. She said she lives in a castle and she’s not a princess she’d a,” Laura struggled over the word, “countess living in the empire and she’s wearing a really pretty dress that’s all poofy.”

Laura liked her dress. Mircalla let a small smile slip out, she had chosen it specially for her soulmate. 

Not that this girl was her soulmate. The mirror was still in error. She simply did not want to see the girl cry. 

“Excuse me,” Laura was tapping on the glass, “my mom would like to know which empire.”

“The Holy Roman Empire,” Mircalla said immediately, “under the reign of King Francis the Second. May he live forever.”

Laura quickly relayed this information back to her mother. Whatever the reply was, it made her giggle, “Mommy, that’s silly. It’s 2001.” This reply made her frown. Then she looked at Mircalla, “Mommy wants to know what year it is?”

Mircalla was still trying to understand what Laura could have possibly meant by ‘it’s 2001’. “It is the year sixteen hundred and and eighty five by the Gregorian calendar.” She said, proud that she knew this when most peasants did not.

It was Mircalla’s turn to look wide-eyed as the next few minutes only re-asserted her belief that the mirror had been in error. Laura claimed to be centuries older than herself. Certainly, soulmates were often varied by a few years, one in say 1685 and another in 1683 as the mirrors pressed their five year old selves together, but centuries. 

Her stomach dropped. If the mirror was right and Laura was her soulmate, they would never meet. Mircalla would be long dead before Laura was even born. What kind of a soulmate was that?

The mirror had to be wrong. 

Still, there was something reassuring as Laura looked at her through tear-filled eyes at the realization that they’d never be together and said, “I’ll come find you anyway.”

Laura’s mother, through the jumbled words of Laura, telling her not to tell anyone but her parents until they could figure this out. 

When her parents asked about the soulmate she’d spent so long talking to, Mircalla had regaled them with the tale of a handsome male Earl in Spain. 

They seemed so happy with her lie.

#

It was her sixth birthday when Mircalla returned to the mirror, the magic only working as each year passed by. Perhaps this year, she’d see her real soulmate and not the odd girl in mirror who claimed to be from a far off time in the future and lived across the sea. 

The girl with the big smiles. 

The cover had long been returned to the mirror and Mircalla pulled it off a little easier than the last year. And once again, the mirror was empty. She gave it a moment, remember how long it had taken Laura to appear last time. Surely, the wires had just been crossed and now the mirror was going to get it right. 

And suddenly there she was. Mircalla frowned and crossed her arms, even stomping her foot against the ground. Stupid mirror. Then she squinted at the mirror as Laura appeared before her with a toothbrush in her mouth.

That was kind of weird

For a moment, Laura didn’t notice her. Then her supposed soulmate’s eyes darted to the side. She spat something against the mirror. Mircalla jumped back. 

Laura immediately leaned forward, wiping the blue foam off the mirror with the bottom of her shirt, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s our birthday,” Mircalla said, rolling her eyes, “that’s how the magic works.”

Laura pointed a toothbrush at her, “I know how it works.” She flung the toothbrush around like a sword, “but it’s not my birthday.”

Mircalla sighed, “Are you sure? Perhaps you should check. I know that peasants can easily lose track of days.”

“I know exactly what day it is,” Laura would’ve stabbed her with the toothbrush if they’d been close enough, “and I’m not a peasant. We don’t even have peasants anymore. It’s not my birthday and it’s only been a little bit of months since I saw you.”

“Well,” Mircalla said, free to use sass if her mama wasn’t around, “I guess I didn’t turn six today.”

“Guess not,” Laura said and stuck the toothbrush back in her mouth. 

Again, the two little girls glared at each other. Mircalla hadn’t known that it was possible to aggressively clean one’s teeth but Laura was pulling it off with reckless abandon.

“Mabef be boke the magick,” Laura said. 

Mircalla raised an eyebrow at her. So Laura spat something in the sink and Mircalla turned up her nose. Peasants were disgusting.

“Maybe we broke the magic,” Laura repeated, “cause you’re from old times and I’m from now and my mom and I went to the library and read a whole bunch of books and she didn’t find anything that talked about old people and now people being soulmates. So maybe it’s confused and messed up our birthdays?”

Mircalla had also read books on the subject, searching out everything she could find in her father’s library and slowly puzzling through the large words. She hadn’t found anything helpful either. 

“That’s not,” she said slowly, “a terrible explanation.”

There was that grin again. The one that seemed to split Laura’s face open and pour sunshine over everything. 

“So you can be nice!” Laura shouted, throwing her hands in the air, “I knew it.”

MIrcalla scowled at her but that only seemed to give Laura a fit of the giggles. Everytime she looked up again, the little girl would resurge into a fresh wave of laughter. By the end, Mircalla was fighting to keep the frown on her face. Suddenly, Laura fell to the side and disappeared. 

“Laura?” Her hand went straight to the glass, as though she could pop through and check on the girl. 

Just the top of Laura’s head reappeared in the mirror, “Sorry! I need a stool to see the mirror and then you made that silly frowny face were you try to act mean but don’t look mean and I thought it was funny because that’s exactly the face that the old cat makes when I try to give it food but then it totally eats the food when I’m not looking. And i was laughing too hard and I fell off!”

Mircalla took a step back from the glass, clasping her hands in front of her, “Be careful.”

Laura dropped down and then popped up to proper height, “Hey, Countess?”

“Yes?”

Laura smiled, “Happy Birthday.”

It would have been rude not to stay and talk to the girl who was not her soulmate after that. The smile blooming on her face had nothing to do with it. 

#

When Mircalla turned 8, Laura finally turned 6. By now, Carmilla was grudgingly expecting to see the small annoying peasant instead of her actual soulmate. The universe didn’t seem to be getting it’s wires sorted out. 

What she hadn’t been expecting was for Laura to be the one waiting for her, the girl sitting in the mirror the moment Mircalla pulled aside the fabric.

“It’s my birthday!” Laura shrieked.

Mircalla rolled her eyes, “took you long enough.”

Laura was apparently learning to ignore her, “And it’s your birthday too right?”

Mircalla nodded, smiling slightly at Laura’s enthusiasm. 

“I brought us something,” Laura shoved some kind of pastry towards the mirror, “I made it myself.”

The item could charitably be called a monstrosity of baking, an odd lump of undercooked dough and brightly coloured decorations smothered under layers of icing. Atop the explosion of sugar, were what Mircalla recognized as two candles. Although why they were on a baked item, she wasn’t sure. Laura wasn’t the most coordinated person and the fire struck her as hazardous.

Mircalla took a moment to stare it, then said, “It’s lovely.”

The younger girl squealed again before holding it out closer to the mirror, as though waiting for something else. 

“What is it?” Mircalla said at last.

Laura’s brow dropped slightly, “It’s a birthday cupcake. You don’t know what a birthday cupcake is?”

“I’m afraid we haven’t been graced with that tradition yet,” Mircalla said. At the fall of Laura’s brow she sought to redeem herself, “although the word cake is familiar. Is this a celebration cake?”

The smile returned, “Exactly!” Mircalla watched carefully as Laura waved the firey tiny cake around, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a birthday cake before. Okay.” Her face went serious, “So normally we use whole cakes and cover them with candles but we didn’t have enough batter for a whole cake. So this is a cupcake. It’s like a tiny cake. But I still put all the icing on it because icing is the best part and I wanted to have lots.” She smiled at Mircalla who suddenly noticed that Laura was missing both of her front teeth, “Make sense?”

“The cupcake is a tiny version of a cake -” Mircalla started

“Yupp!” Laura said, before she could finish.

“-rather like how you are a tiny version of a human?”

For a moment there was silence then, “I am not a cupcake!”

It was too late, Mircalla gave her a wicked grin, “As you say, cupcake.”

“Not a cupcake!” Laura repeated. 

“I beg to differ,” Mircalla said.

Laura wasted a minute pouting before cracking into a grumble, “Just blow out the candles and make a wish.” She must have seen Mircalla’s confused look, “that’s why the candles are there. I put the candles in so there’s one for each us and then you blow out the candles and make a wish and it only comes true because it’s your birthday.” She failed to see the logic in that.

Laura continued anyway, “and because its both our birthdays we should get twice the wish and I thought that we could wish that we’d somehow get to see each other and that I could come find you.”

Mircalla felt a light blush patter across her cheeks as Laura looked down sheepishly at her cupcake. 

“Shall we complete this odd birthday ritual now?” Mircalla asked at last.

Laura nodded, oddly silent. She held the cupcake out towards the mirror, two candles dripping wax onto the icing. They locked eyes and Mircalla found herself unable to look away from the big brown eyes as the flames danced against them. 

Eyes still locked, they blew out the candles together, Mircalla’s breath turning the mirror into a slight haze. When it cleared, Laura was beaming at her from the other side, picking off the candles and shoving icing into her mouth.

It didn’t even feel silly to make Laura’s wish. 

#

Mircalla’s ninth birthday was spent spending most of the day enjoying the expression on Laura’s face when she called her cupcake. As much as she enjoyed the girl’s seemingly impossible tales of moving horseless carriages and whirling pictures and musicians trapped inside tiny boxes to always play music. There was nothing quite like seeing Laura’s tiny nose bunch up in aggravation. 

So she should have expected what came on her tenth birthday. 

After meeting Laura in what was apparently the mirror in her father’s office, the future was just full of mirrors it would seem, Mircalla could immediately see that Laura had something up her sleeve. 

The six, and three quarters Mircalla, year old was basically bouncing from her perch in her father’s large chair. 

But the answer didn’t reveal itself until halfway through Mircalla’s description of her latest book when she’d called Laura a cupcake.

“I’ll have to try and find it in the library, Carmilla.” Laura’s sly look was familiar to something she usually saw on her own face. 

Mircalla wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. Even if she couldn’t figure out why in the world Laura had gone with that name. They sat in silence for but a moment when, as Mircalla had anticipated, Laura broke.

“Carmilla!” she said, “Get it? Cause you keep calling my cupcake even though I told you to stop so I figured that if you get a secret name for me then I get a secret name for you cause that’s only fair. So I thought really hard to try and come up with something but I couldn’t think of something that was really you and didn’t sound dumb because i know you wouldn’t want something dumb.” Laura took a deep breath and kept going, “and then in school, we learned about anagrams and my name was really boring to anagram cause its basically just vowels so I started playing with yours and I really liked Carmilla and it was perfect!”

She stared at Mircalla like the perfectness of the name should be obvious. Mircalla was too busy trying to figure out why she was suddenly so fond of the idea of Laura giving her a secret name. Once, one of the garden boys had tried calling her Mir and she’d almost throttled him. 

Again, Laura’s babbling saved the conversation, “It’s perfect because it’s you, but a secret you! Like, it’s still got all the letter of your name but they’re all switched around like a secret version of you that only I get to see and it’s going to be awesome.”

Carmilla. 

Maybe she could get used to it if Laura kept smiling at her like that.

#

Their birthdays matched up again when Carmilla turned 11 and Laura turned 8. Laura had started out enthusiastic, telling her all about school and her friends and how she’d apparently gotten to ride a pony. As she owned a horse, Carmilla wasn’t sure why this was significant but she wasn’t about to burst Laura’s bubble. 

But as the conversation wore on, Laura became increasingly quieter, staring down at her hands. 

Eventually Carmilla interjected, “Cupcake,” there was only the faintest nose crinkle at the nickname, “you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, no,” Laura looked up, “No, I want to see you. I hardly ever get to see you and you’re like my best friend and I miss that I can’t just tell you things and I get to see you way more than you get to see me. I can’t image always waiting a whole year. That would be insane.”

Carmilla tried not to think about the dozens of letters she had stashed away in a drawer that were addressed to Laura, filling the gap between birthdays.

Instead she watched Laura carefully and said, “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s wrong.”

Laura’s hand went to her shirt, fidgeting with the hem. 

“Cupcake?” Carmilla said softly. 

When Laura looked up, her eyes were wet, “My mom’s sick. Dad says the doctors are going to try and fix her but they won’t tell me what’s wrong and everybody gets all quiet when I come into the room and what if she’s dying and I don’t want her to die and I don’t know what to do.”

Carmilla didn’t know what to do either. 

So she just lifted her hand and placed it against the glass, Laura’s smaller hand immediately coming out to meet it. If she focused hard enough, Carmilla could almost pretend she could feel the heat of Laura’s hand under her fingers. 

The sat until Carmilla heard the bells chiming from the church, “Did I ever tell you,” she said, “about the time I convinced the master at arms to give me sword fighting lessons?”

#

On her twelfth birthday, Carmilla got up at the crack of dawn to maximize her time with the mirror, surprising Laura but setting a grin across her face as the younger girl raced away to convince her parents to let her take the day off school. When she returned, Laura cheerfully told her that the experimental drugs they’d put her mother on seemed to be working. 

Somewhere during the day, she graduated from Carmilla to Carm. 

When she turned 13, Laura was waiting. The freshly christened 9 year old holding another candle ridden cupcake. Laura had spoke about her friends, including an in depth explanation of her friend Susan switching to using their last name, while Carmilla regaled Laura with tales of the balls she was forced to attend. The day ended with Carmilla curled up against the mirror as Laura curled up next to her, reading aloud from her favourite book as the smaller girl struggled to stay awake. If they ignored the pane of glass, they would have been touching. 

Carmilla’s 14th birthday caught Laura in her bedroom, the younger girl apparently having installed a large mirror on the wall ‘just in case’. And so the day was spent cracking jokes at the expense of Carmilla’s latest ball gown and Laura’s secret sugar stash. 

Laura’s latest obsession was a tv show. A tv in and of itself sounded like a marvelous invention, but Laura was more focused on what the tv was displaying. Tales of a time traveller with a magic box.

“So if I can just track down the Doctor,” Laura said, “then I can make him take me to come see you, Carm! Just like I promised. And if that doesn’t work, Laf promised to build me a time machine. And they’re really smart so they’ll totally be able to do it, I bet. Then I’ll be able to come find you, just like I promised.”

Something in Carmilla’s chest ached as the smaller girl grinned at her. The smile no longer toothless but a smudge of chocolate on the side of her face. Her heart still undecided whether the mirror showing her little Laura had been a blessing or a curse. 

“Cupcake,” she said, “as wonderful as the technology of your world sounds and I’m sure your friend is very smart, perhaps fiction isn’t the best thing to pin your hopes on.”

Laura’s smile fell and Carmilla hated to do it, but one of them had to be grounded.

Laura fiddled with a cookie, “I’m probably never going to see you for real, am I?”

Carmilla shook her head, “No. We never should have met in the first place. Mirrors never jump this much time. It was a mistake.” That didn’t stop her from writing the letters overflowing from her armoire. 

“We’re not soulmates,” Laura still didn’t look up but Carmilla could hear the tremble in her voice, “are we?”

“No,” Carmilla said again, forcing the word out past the lump in her own throat.

Laura nodded slowly, “but… but we’re friends right?”

The fact that Laura even had to ask, tore at something inside Carmilla “We’re best friends.” she said fiercely. 

Once again, the smile returned, something deep shining in Laura’s watery eyes, “Then I’ll just have to keep trying to come find you. Best friends are just as important as soulmates.”

And as they pushed the limits of the mirror late into the night until Laura’s imaged wavered and flickered with every stroke of the clock, Laura’s voice drifted through as she faded away, “I’m glad the mirror messed up, Carm.”

The ornate mirror covering did a terrible job of soaking up her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we didn't even get to the part that inspired me to write this oneshot but that would have put us up at 10,000 words which sadly, I lacked the time for. Is this something people would like to eventually see the second half of?
> 
> This series only exists because of your amazing comment, kudos and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/). You've all been so amazing and I'm ridiculously and continually flabbergasted by the strength and kindness of this fandom and it's creampuffs <3
> 
> This is the second story of '10 More Days of Creampuff' where I'll be posting a Carmilla fanfic chapter every weekday for 10 days as a thank you to the fandom for supporting my writing and helping me get published. 
> 
> Stay stupendous, Aria


	2. Ages 15 - 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by high demand and in celebration that they're shooting season 3!  
> Remember cupcakes, you asked for this one and I aim to please <3

The year Carmilla turned fifteen, Laura was waiting for her in front of the mirror in a panic. Carmilla’s fingers hovered over the ornate mirror covering, remembering the last time she’d touched it. The tear stains were gone but in their haste, the servants had left wrinkles creasing the cover. Still, Carmilla yanked the covering back.

“Carm!” Laura shouted before the mirror was fully uncovered. 

Carmilla’s eyes widened then, as she took in Laura, they fell into a frown, “What’s wrong, cupcake?”

“Carm.” Laura seemed to breath the word. There were dark circles under her eyes and the usually smooth brown hair was full of flyaways. Carmilla’s fingers itched to smooth them down. Instead, she took a step closer to the mirror.

“Laura.” Carmilla said.

Her name seemed to jumpstart Laura’s mouth, “You’re okay!”

“Naturally,” Carmilla said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I haven’t seen you all year!” Laura said, throwing her hands in the air, “And I always see you lots more times then you see me because the mirror always messes up. But this time, I didn’t see you at all and I was worried that something bad happened or that you were dead because we’ve been learning lots of things in history class about wars and plagues and I don’t want any of that to happen to you and you were never in the mirror and then you were late.”

As Laura spoke, a small smile curled across Carmilla’s lips, “I assure you, I’m fine. I will continue to be here every year.”

“Promise?” Laura asked. Then she threw out her hand, shoving it against the glass. Despite the obvious force, there was no shiver on Carmilla’s side. No ricochet of force or sound of smacked glass.

Still, Carmilla met Laura’s hand with her own, “I promise, cupcake.”

The glass was cool against her palm. Carmilla’s larger handing hiding Laura’s from view. So Carmilla shifted her fingers slightly, realigning so that her fingers filled the spaces between Laura’s. Had there not been centuries between them, their fingers would have intwined. 

Instead, when Carmilla bent her fingers slightly, all she was met with was the hard glass of the pane. 

Eventually, Carmilla pulled her hand away and buried it in the fabric of her dress, “So,” she said, “if it has been as long as you claim, I assume that it is once again your birthday?”

As always, Laura’s grin split across her face. The one thing that the mirror could not dilute as it blasted through the centuries back to Carmilla, “I’m ten!” Laura crowed, “Double digits.”

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” Carmilla said, holding back her smirk as Laura quirked her head to the side like a small puppy, “but it would seems as humanity has shrunk in the centuries between us.”

“Carm!” Laura said, “I’m plenty tall!”

Carmilla tapped her chin, “Perhaps tall has changed meanings recently?”

Laura’s nose crinkled when she pouted, “You’re only taller than me because you’re five years older. That’s not my fault.”

Settling her skirt as she sat, Carmilla said, “I find it difficult to believe that you would be taller than me even without the age gap.”

“Well,” Laura said as she plopped down on her butt, “I’ll just have to come find you and we’ll measure and then we’ll be sure.”

Something tightened in Carmilla’s chest. Rather than answering, she looked around the library for anything else she could speak of. 

The invitation for her birthday gala caught her eye, “My Papa’s hosting another party this year,” she said, eyes on the crumpled mirror covering instead of Laura, “I think the other Lords would be rather distraught if he didn’t as they’ve become known throughout the land as quite the seasonal event. Of course, this will mean dancing with more of those buffoons but as I draw closer to my sixteenth birthday, it’s inevitable that I will no longer be able to avoid-”

“I’m still gonna find you, Carm,” Laura interrupted. 

Carmilla hands gripped the folds of her skirt. 

“I know we talked about it and you don’t want to think about it,” Laura said, “but the mirror made me find you for a reason and you’re my best friend so I’m going to do the impossible and find you. That’s what I promise.”

It was hard to look in those big brown eyes and not believe every word the ten year old said. 

Especially when, moments later, she pulled out another birthday cupcake and made Carmilla make a wish all over again.

#

Carmilla’s sixteenth birthday found Laura when she was just getting out of bed. With the covering pulled aside, Laura didn’t notice her at first. Carmilla smiled as Laura rolled out of bed, slung under one of her arms was a fuzzy teddy bear while the other tugged on the end of her pajama shirt.

A TARDIS flying across the front. 

Laura yawned and rubbed her eyes, leaving Carmilla smiling.

“Cupcake,” she called. 

Laura’s head swung over to the mirror that Carmilla knew was in the corner of her bedroom. First she smiled but then her eyes widened and she immediately shoved the teddy bear under her yellow pillow. 

“What? No...” Carmilla teased, “Sir Bearington will surely suffocate under such conditions and then where will my noble knight be?” It had only been a few years ago when Laura had insisted that she knight the teddy bear so that he would have official status. Carmilla had objected, saying that she wasn’t a Princess, but Laura had insisted. 

They’d ended up with an entire platoon of stuffed knights and a magical sword.

Laura looked at the bear under her pillow and then back at Carmilla. She lifted her chin, “I’m too old for teddy bears, Carm.” Laura took a shaky step away from the bed, “I’m mature now.”

“Are you now?” Carmilla teased.

But rather than the usual smile, Laura’s face grew darker, “We don’t have to pretend. I’m not a baby.”

The smile was gone as Carmilla frowned, taking a step closer to the mirror, “Of course you’re not.” Carmilla said.

Laura nodded. Then, rather than dropping in front of the mirror, Laura sat stiffly in front of it, “So,” she said, “Are you excited for your birthday celebrations? Who do you think will be there?”

This still, stiff child was not Laura Hollis. 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said, dropping to the ground without bothering to adjust her skirt, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Laura said.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re old,” Laura blurted. Carmilla froze as Laura’s hands went straight to her mouth. 

A squeaking sound came from Laura, “I’m sorry.”

“Care to explain?” Carmilla asked. 

The words came quickly, “Cause you’re sixteen now Carm. That’s like really old. Like high schoolers are sixteen and they’re really big and mature and I’m still only ten and none of the other sixteen year olds would want to be friends with me because I’m too little and Theo said that you’re not actually my best friend because I still have teddy bears and old people don’t want to do that kind of stuff. That’s okay though. Because I can be mature and we don’t have to do kid stuff or play with Sir Bearington or anything. I promise. No more teddy bears.”

For all that Laura managed to hold her voice steady, her chin wobbled. 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla started.

“No. Carm,” Laura said, “I’m big now.”

The sixteen year old tried to hold back her smile as she stared at Laura. At last, she folded her hands and said, “No more teddy bears? Well then you’ll just have to take his place, won’t you? Can’t have a Countess without her noble knights.”

“We don’t have to pretend,” Laura said, “I’m not a baby. I know you can’t actually knight me.”

Carmilla put on her best serious face, “But what if I wanted to? A Knight Hollis of my very own? After all, my best friend could be no common peasant. Only the highest ranking knight could hold such an honour.”

“You’re being silly,” Laura said but the side of her mouth quirked. 

Carmilla put a hand to her chest, imitating some of the more aggravating women she had to see at court, “After all, what is a Countess but for the quality of her brave and fierce knights. Alas, the bravest of them all, Laura of the House Hollis, refuses to accept my sigil as her own. And on my own name day even. Whatever shall I do?”

Laura’s giggle slipped out, “Alright. Fine. Fine. I’ll be your knight.”

“Ah,” Carmilla said, “It is not that simple.” She held out a hand towards the mirror, “Kneel.” She watched as Laura, bedhead and all, dropped to her knees, “Now, recite after me.”

Carmilla said the words that she’d stolen from one of her father’s books of a time even older than herself, “I, Laura of the House Hollis, pledge my service to Countess Carmilla of Karnstein. I promise to protect her from all who wish her harm. I pledge her my sword and my heart. I pledge to uphold the needs of the poor and lonely and defend all who call on my aid. I will uphold the name of Karnstein and honour my house.”

Laura managed to get it out through the giggles. 

Carmilla smiled as Laura popped up in front of her, tapping on the glass. “Congratulations cupcake,” she said, “You’re a real knight now.”

Laura did a dance move that she had once informed Carmilla was called ‘the fist pump’. 

“What about you?” Laura asked when the dancing had subsided, “Do you have make a pledge when you become a Countess?”

“Afraid not. You’re just born with it,” Carmilla said. 

Laura crossed her arms, “Well, that doesn’t seem fair.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow.

“Cause other people have to promise things to you but you don’t promise them anything back.” Laura said, “So what do the people get out of it? What if you were mean or bad or something?” 

“That’s not how it works, cupcake,” Carmilla just laughed, “Go ask your mother if you can take the day off school.”

The second Laura was out of the room, Carmilla ran from the library. Uncaring of her skirts or her mother’s scandalized “Mircalla”, Carmilla sprinted down the hallway and dashed into her chambers. She quickly unlocked the chest that held the letters she’d written to Laura over the years and dug through the contents until something soft hit her hand. 

Then she sprinted back, trying not to trip over the skirt.

She was breathing heavy but just made it to the mirror in time to watch Laura tumble back into the room. 

Carefully, Carmilla held up the worn and floppy black stuffed cat in her arms, “Lady Bagheera requires a companion.” she said, “Do not leave her alone to face the world.” 

A blush bloomed across Laura’s chest even as she pulled the teddy bear back out, “Happy Birthday, Carm.” 

#

Seventeen had another cupcake nearly squished against the mirror when she opened it. Even Carmilla could admit that 11 year old Laura’s cupcake baking skills had gotten significantly better than when she’d first started. 

Once the candles had been blown out and the cupcake carefully half eaten by Laura, Carmilla picked up the book that she’d started with Laura many birthdays ago and begun reading. They had reached the final chapters and she was eager to learn the ending. Curled up against the mirror, Laura was snuggled into her own side as Carmilla held the book so they could both see the pages. They’d long developed a rhythm for the book, each with characters assigned to them. Laura even going so far as to make up unique voices for each of her characters. 

When they finished the book, there was a moment of silence. The last moment of respect for a lingering truth of the tale in their heads before Laura asked, “Are balls really like that?”

“Like what?” Carmilla asked absently, head still lost to stories of dragons and monsters and heroes. 

“The dancing,” Laura said. When Carmilla looked over, Laura was sitting on her knees with her eyes practically shining, “Do people really do those old-timey dances where everyone knows the moves and people wear big fancy dresses?”

Carmilla put the book aside, spinning to face Laura with her knees pressed against the glass, “Of course,” she said, “do you no longer have such events?”

Laura shook her head and bit her lip, Carmilla tried not to stare at the bits of metal lining Laura’s teeth. Braces sounded like a monstrous contraption. “Tell me about it,” Laura demanded, “What’ll you be doing tonight?”

“The current stylings come from France,” Carmilla said, watching as Laura’s eyes sparkled, “they say that the most magnificent ballets are being developed in the courts of King Louis the XIV. However, the great Gottfried Taubert has created his own vision for the steps within our empire.”

She continued speaking, explaining the steps that her tutor had drilled into her head. While learning had seemed an arduous task, Laura soaked in her every word as though it was an excitement. The girl a seemingly endless fountain of questions. 

Finally Carmilla cut her off mid-question. Laura looked offended for a moment until Carmilla got to her feet and huffed, “I’ll just show you cupcake.”

Laura tripped scrambling to her feet and headbutted the mirror. She was up again in an instant.

“I’m fine,” Laura said, “go.”

Carmilla reached out for her invisible partner and started moving through the steps. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine her partner yet failing to pull up any familiar face that seemed appetizing. She held in the sigh, tomorrow's event would surely be another disaster. 

When she opened her eyes again, Laura was dancing. Her arms were up in her own invisible embrace and her brow was furrowed with concentration as Laura’s gaze darted from Carmilla’s feet to her own. 

And a smile broke across Carmilla’s face. 

A better partner than any she could have. 

#

 

Laura turned twelve when Carmilla turned eighteen and Carmilla couldn’t help but think that something was wrong. The icing covered cupcake was still present with two candles on top and Laura was still made of sunshine smiles and big brown eyes. Yet something was different. 

There were pauses in the conversation. Laura would suddenly blush and then launch into a spiel of words that not even Carmilla could keep up with. 

Carmilla simply assumed it was part of being twelve. 

It had not been her favourite year either. 

So they worked around it. Laura filled Carmilla in on the latest season of Doctor Who while Carmilla spoke of her newfound book on astronomy that her Papa had gotten delivered on her behalf. They were interrupted only when one of her handmaidens knocked lightly on the door, reminding Carmilla that she still had to try on the final version of her dress for her birthday celebrations. 

“Do you mind?” Carmilla asked.

Laura shook her head and mumbled around the cookie in her mouth, “I wanta see the dresh anywash.”

Nodding, Carmilla stepped to the side of the mirror and let them tie the new dress around her. Laura was silent only for a few minutes before calling, “What’s taking so long?”

“This is simply how long dresses take,” Carmilla replied.

She could hear Laura huff. 

The handmaidens could neither see nor hear Laura but they certainly understood that someone special stood on the other side of the mirror. 

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” one of them said as she slipped out the door. 

He. Of course. Mircalla’s supposed soulmate from Spain. 

Still, Carmilla gently smoothed down the bodice and took as deep a breath as the outfit would allow. For some reason delaying stepping in front of the mirror as she picked and pulled at the pleats. 

Which was ridiculous. 

So she stepped in front of the mirror. 

“What do you think, cupcake?” she asked. 

Laura looked up with half a cookie in her mouth and froze. She just stared, leaving Carmilla trying not to shift from foot to foot under her gaze. Slowly, red worked it’s way over Laura’s cheeks. 

“Cupcake?” Carmilla prompted. 

“You’re beautiful.” the words tumbled out. Laura’s eyes widened as though she’d said something she hadn’t meant to.

But Carmilla found herself doing the same, “Really?”

Laura’s head snapped up, “Course, Carm. Don’t you know that?”

Carmilla just shook her head, a wry smile creeping across her lips. Then she sat down again and Laura launched into another story about her friends and the magical wonders of the 21st century.

Carmilla thought that was it. 

Until. 

“Do you ever wonder why we appeared in the mirror?” Laura asked. 

Carmilla frowned, eyes still on the stars that had long since appeared outside the library window. “I think,” she teased, “that you might have smacked your head a little hard on that mirror, cupcake. The mirror made an error. We established that years ago.”

There was silence for a moment.

“What if it wasn’t a mistake?” Laura whispered. 

Slowly, Carmilla looked through the mirror. Laura was sitting cross legged in front of her with her head looking down. Her hands were balled into fists, fingers clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. Her cheeks were flaming red and her hair curtained around eyes scrunched closed.

Something in Carmilla’s chest seized, a premonition born of time, “Cupcake.” She said, trying to stop what was unfolding.

Laura wouldn’t let her. 

“What if it wasn’t a mistake,” Laura repeated, “What if the mirror is right and we were supposed to be together and what if I can find you one day. Because I think that it might be right because you’re my best friend and sometimes I get so sad but then I think of you and I feel less sad and I miss you when you’re not here.” 

Laura’s hands were practically shaking in her lap, “And you’re so beautiful and I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s not even just that you’re pretty even though you are but you’re pretty on the inside too. Like how you love stars and you’re silly sometimes and your voice when you read books. I know that I’m little and there are lots of years between us and it seems impossible.”

“But,” Laura said, “what if the mirror was right? What if we are soulmates, Carm? Because I think I’m in love with you.”

Carmilla’s hands were tangled in her skirt, clenching at the fabric as though it could ground her. Her breath was gone and all she could do was slid closer to the mirror stuck between them. 

Because Laura was looking at her now. Looking at her with big brown eyes that were watery without crying and the sunshine that usually lived in her smile had turned into something else entirely. Something beautiful and vulnerable and a little bit terrifying. 

And Carmilla was going to have to break it.

Her hands shook.

So she hid them deeper in her skirt and said, “Cupcake. We can’t.”

There were more words lurking in her throat and in her chest but they got caught somewhere near her voicebox and before she could explain further, Laura was moving. 

Recoiling. 

She sprang back from the mirror and the tiny hands that had been clenched into fists were hugging her torso instead. Carmilla had to watch the split second where all the hope and vulnerability in her face shattered. The tiny smile cracking into a stifled sob while the warmth in her eyes dropped behind a steel curtain. 

“Oh,” Laura said. She kept backpedalling. Moving farther and farther from the mirror. 

Carmilla moved closer, “Laura-” she started.

“No. No. It’s okay. It’s fine. I get it. It’s fine. No. I’m just too littl-,” her voice cracked as a sob built underneath the words. “You’re grown up and you don’t feel. It’s fine. No. It’s.”

Laura sunk deeper into herself. Pulled farther away.

“Laura,” Carmilla had her hands on the glass now, the cold biting into her palms like ice, “Laura no. That’s not what I meant, come back.”

“I’m gonna go,” Laura spoke over her. Her head was facing away from the mirror but Carmilla could still catch the reflection of a tear glimmer on her face. Laura hiccuped, “I’m gonna go. I just. I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Carm. I’ll be better next year. It was silly. Of course you don’t. I’m just. Of course.”

And Laura was gone, her image disappearing from the mirror like smoke and leaving Carmilla with only her own face staring back at her. Paler than she’d ever seen it with wide eyes frantically refusing to meet their own gaze.

“Laura,” she shouted, “Laura. Laura.”

Her hands were pressed against the glass as though she could fall through. It wasn’t midnight yet. The day wasn’t over. Carmilla stayed, leaning unmoving against the glass. Waiting. 

The bells rang once. Twice. Three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven

Twelve. 

The day was over and the only thing staring at her in the mirror was her own reflection. Just an eighteen year old girl in a pretty dress with tears she couldn’t remember shedding drying on her cheeks. 

Laura had called her beautiful. 

Then, she’d broken her best friend. 

Carmilla clawed the dress off and left it lying on the floor in a rumpled heap next to the mirror covering. 

She refused to wear it to her 18th birthday ball. 

So she wasn’t wearing it when a knife plunged into her chest and left her bleeding on the floor.

So she wasn’t wearing it when teeth pierced her neck, ripping fabric aside and injecting fire into her veins. 

So she wasn’t wearing it when she stood alone. A vampire in a room of corpses. 

She was, however, still wearing a broken heart. 

#

Carmilla had been waiting all year for this. On her nineteenth birthday, she sprinted through the empty halls of Castle Karnstein and skidded to a stop in front of the mirror. Running her tongue over her teeth to ensure that her fangs were well hidden, Carmilla yanked the mirror covering away. 

There was nothing on the other side. 

The breath she didn’t need caught in her throat but she forced herself to stay calm, to wait. Laura had been late before. 

Vampires could still have soulmates. 

She would tell Laura that now Carmilla could come find her. That the mirror wasn’t wrong. That she could live through all the years between them.

Laura just had to show up. 

Carmilla perched on her toes, smoothing her dress. Watching. Waiting. Staring at the empty glass before her as her eyes ran over the books behind her. An unbroken wall of knowledge in the mirror. All she had left of her Papa.

The mirror rippled.

And there was Laura. 

Thirteen year old Laura with a cupcake in her hands and a hopeful look on her face. The flames on the cupcake were already burning, two tiny stars casting shadows on Laura’s face. 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla let the word go on a sigh. The tension sinking away from her body. She was there. She was still there. Laura still showed up and vampires could still have soulmates. 

Then Carmilla frowned, watching as Laura continued to stare at the mirror with an unchanging expression. Watching. Waiting.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said again, stepping closer.

No response. 

Carmilla put her hand on the glass, fingers spread, “Laura.”

Nothing. 

There was no way that Laura couldn’t see her. Carmilla was right there. She knocked lightly on the glass. Perhaps it would just take a moment more. She could see Laura. Laura was there. 

Her smile faded a little, “Carm?” Laura called.

“I’m here,” Carmilla shouted. 

Laura didn’t react. Her gaze just flickered back and forth between the cupcake and the mirror. Never landing on Carmilla. Laura had clearly gotten older, face a little more angular and just a smidget taller. The sun had brightened her hair into streaks of gold and there was a dollop of icing on her cheek as though she’d been in a hurry. That same face looking out from the glass. 

That same face. 

Carmilla’s stomach dropped. 

Just that face. Only that face.

She fell back from the mirror, knees almost giving out as her mind whirled with a single scenario she hadn’t thought of. She’d considered that Laura wouldn’t show up after her last confession. She’d considered that vampires weren’t allowed to have soulmate. She’d considered that Laura would be angry.

She hadn’t considered this. 

Laura couldn’t see her. 

Carmilla lunged back towards Laura, slamming her fist against the glass until a thick crack shot down the glass and sliced Laura’s reflection in two. “Laura!” she shouted, “I’m right here!” She forced the vampiric strength down, slamming the mirror again and again but just keeping from cracking the image further. She had to watch as after the first hour, Laura’s smile was completely gone. The light faded from her eyes. 

Hour two meant that Laura started calling for her. Every attempt from a shouted “Carmilla” to a pleading “Mircalla” to a broken “Carm” reached Carmilla’s ears. But not one of her “Laura’s” could get through the glass. 

In hour three Laura sunk to her knees, cupcake in trembling hands. Carmilla dropped with her, slapping the glass against. The thwacks loud in her own ears. 

But not as loud as Laura’s aborted sob in hour four. 

The candles had burned away entirely in hour five. 

Carmilla lost her voice in hour seven. The fangs had long slipped out past her lips because that hardly mattered. 

Hour nine saw the cupcake put aside and replaced with what Carmilla knew was a laptop. She could only watch as Laura mumbled words like ‘1698’ and ‘war’ and ‘karnstein’ while her fingers flew over the keys. 

Hour eleven was silent. Laura just stared into the mirror and no matter how Carmilla shuffled and moved on her own side, somehow Laura’s eye never lined up with her own. 

In hour twelve, Laura spoke to someone Carmilla couldn’t see and moved just outside of the mirror’s frame. But her words still came through. A jumble behind tears, “She didn’t show up, mom. She didn’t. Maybe she’s still mad at me and I messed it up and now she’s not going to come and it’s all my fault. She’s not here and I want her to be.”

Carmilla’s roared response was the farthest thing from human. 

Laura had dried tears on her cheeks and a teddy bear in her arms but she sat through the night. She stayed until the clock chimed twelve and her image dissolved away with a last ‘Carm’ on her lips. 

Carmilla stayed longer. She just stared at the mirror with it’s long crack across the image of all her father’s books behind her. Only her father’s books behind her. 

Carmilla didn’t need to see herself to feel the tears on her cheeks. 

It wasn’t Laura’s fault that vampires didn’t have reflections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE'S A VAMPIRE AND IT'S AN AU ABOUT MIRRORS!!! GET IT? I've been waiting the whole time to get to this part.  
> How are the feels doing? ;)
> 
> Cupcakes, your comments, kudos and [tumblr stop-ins](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) are what keep me going and kept this fic alive. Hearing from you is just the best and sets big smiles across my face. Even when I write stories like this and accidentally emotionally compromise myself <3
> 
> Stay stupendous. Aria.


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